Chapter 6

"Our intrepid hero grew up in the privileged world of Oldport Beach. Cast out by evil forces, he earns honor and respect amongst the inland thugs becoming an awesome force to be reckoned with." Seth returned Captain Oats' baleful gaze. "Alright, alright, your honest-eye-ray gets me all the time – mostly our hero is bored and useless. Super Dad is bringing home the George Washingtons, out saving the world from poorly constructed contracts and environmental do-gooders. Super Mom is re-building a house with her bare hands. Together they fend off the Wicked Grandfather. Super Bro, keeping an 'A' average, earns his own spending money, builds custom shelves, and fixes cars in a single bound." Seth rubbed the back of his neck absently. "All the while Super Loser sits here on a lawn chair by a baby pool sunning like a blob of anti-energy."

Captain Oats seemed immune to the Seth's malaise. Seth continued, "Cap'n, we gotta rally out of this introspective self-pity thing. Nobody's peed into our shoes – well, you might not care about that, but we haven't been punched in a long while either. Gramps is going to jail soon, but here in the numbered streets we're getting it together."

Displaying his usual bravado, the Captain floated by danger on a small piece of scrap wood with aplomb. Seth picked the Super Soaker up off his lap, aimed at his faithful horse's hind leg, and pulled the trigger. The waters' force guided the horse slowly around the pool that had a few floating candles shaped like flowers, and a larger flame in the middle of it. "I have confidence we're gonna navigate this new life like champs. If we can pass these testing flames through the nine levels of -"

Seth was interrupted as Kirsten, Sandy and Ryan stepped out onto the patio. Sandy was saying, "C'mon you guys have to let up with the house stuff. Smell the roses, or here in the numbered streets, smell the burnt rubber, the jalapenos on the grill." He pulled a chair out for Kirsten and sat down himself at the patio table. Seth had noticed his mom and dad had stopped fighting in the last few days, and they were back to casual displays of affection designed to embarrass him.

Kirsten smiled wryly at Sandy's quip. She set her design book and a glass of red wine on the table and sat down. In the small yard, the table was set a few feet from the "pool". "Seth, what are you doing? Are those my candles? Is that my chafing fuel?" She pointed at the foot tall flaming sculpture in the middle of the pool.

"Mom, don't say chafing. And that is Pyro who's having a little trouble with his lesson at Mutant School." He squirted water at Pyro, and it sizzled angrily. "I only have a limited supply of cherry bombs so I'm testing new product."

Ryan eagerly went over to look at Seth's set up. "Cherry bombs? Trey and I used to mess with M80s all the time," he said smiling broadly. "Once we …" Ryan stopped mid-sentence as if he suddenly remembered his audience. His eyes darted anxiously to Sandy and Kirsten.

"Ryan, buddy, that was a choice Chino-share. We need to have family circle time more often." Seth squirted Captain Oats, who's tail perilously passed by Pyro.

"You guys are not getting firecrackers," Sandy said with his eyebrows gathered sternly.

"No, I didn't mean… I would never endanger…" Ryan began but couldn't seem to end the sentences.

"Yeah, Ryan, please don't lead an innocent like me down the path of illegal pyrotechnics. Burning down one house wasn't enough?" Seth smiled maliciously, enjoying Ryan's discomfort.

Ryan's eyes narrowed, drilling Seth.

Seth patted Ryan on the shoulder. "Okay, tag. I'm in and you owe me, bro." He turned toward his parents who didn't really seem bothered by Ryan's reminiscences or the brotherly banter. "Drinks poolside, huh?" Seth said with good-natured scorn. "Change it up, guys."

"Don't fix what ain't broke, son." Sandy said taking a long pull from his beer bottle.

It was a nice, warm afternoon. The sun hovered just above the neighbor's roofline, painting the patio with a soft light. The afternoon traffic could be heard in the near distance, kids were shouting and laughing a few houses over, but it was muted enough to be a minor white noise.

Ryan looked at Seth gratefully, and pulled a chair "poolside" opposite Seth. "Let me try." He took over the colorful water gun, immediately sending Captain Oats into a spin.

"Captain Aubrey, you suck and are relieved of command." Seth held his hand out for the Soaker. "Permission to come on deck rescinded."

"I just need to get the feel for Captain Oats' center of mass." Ryan nudged Captain Oats with a short spurt to his nose.

Sandy stood up and went over to watch. "Who's Aubrey?"

"Ignore him," Ryan recommended.

"Don't fight type, Ryan. You have to shoot lower or he'll tip over – you call yourself a physic nerd? The notches in the wood and the gum on his hoofs can only do so much," Seth said rebalancing Captain Oats onto his "ship".

"Can I have a go?" Sandy asked. Ryan handed him the squirt gun and backed his chair away. "Just promise to keep it away from the know-it-all, over-eager Ensign Wesley Crusher."

Seth curled his lip in displeasure but didn't reply. "Be careful, Dad, Captain Oats is not some hunk of plastic."

Everyone turned to stared at him. "Okay, so he may be part plastic but he … never mind - they mock what they can not know, Captain."

Amused Kirsten said, "We know how special he is; we were there when you got him. What ever happened to that cute cowboy outfit you had?" To Ryan she said, "He wore that thing all the time."

"Mom, stop." He glared at them both, but they couldn't suppress smirks.

Sandy walked around the four foot diameter pool, slowly weaving the plastic horse around the flames, getting low to the ground when he needed to. "You gotta go nice and easy, like this, see? Nice and easy. Nice and easy. This game might sweep the nation, don't you think? Speaking of which, if you really want Chrismukkah to sweep the nation, this family needs to start thinking about how to celebrate," he said as he continued to guide Captain Oats around the pool.

Seth grimaced. "No, I said I don't want it to sweep the nation; the merchandise is not in full production. Let's skip it this year."

"Christmas, Hanukkah are celebrations of love and family, not consumption. Greedy, mindless consumerism," Kirsten said distastefully, shaking her head.

"Mom, you say that like it's a bad thing," Seth said enjoying a try at annoying her. "I remember a rather long Chrismukkah list last year."

"I can shop with the best of them, but I don't have to." Kirsten defended herself. "We will celebrate," she insisted.

"The car brought in top dollars so we can do a little something. What's it going to be? Let's get a tree tomorrow," Sandy suggested. He handed the Super Soaker back to Ryan and walked behind Kirsten. He rubbed her shoulder for a moment and left his hand resting there. "We have lots to be celebrate. Your mom and I have been on the case, and we are going to visit Caleb tomorrow and work things out."

"Hey, that's great," Ryan said.

Seth chimed in agreeing, "Yeah, that's great. Should we all go?"

"He'd love it," Kirsten said.

"I've got a shift," Ryan said speaking to his boots.

Kirsten and Sandy passed looks but didn't make an issue of Ryan not going.

Kirsten changed the subject. "I decided to try cooking." The guys sent furtive glances to each other. "I can only do so much renovating, and I'm going stir crazy. Don't worry. It's just a simple salad." Her eyes dared them to disagree. She got up with her empty glass and Sandy's bottle, and left for the house.

The guys looked at each other, quietly considering their best strategy.

"I think I'm really thirsty and need to go to the kitchen where dinner is being prepared," Ryan said pushing himself out of the chair.

Seth and Sandy looked relieved. "Yes, you are very thirsty. Best get some liquids in you," Sandy said nodding sagely.

"Dehydration is nothing to be played with," Seth added.

As soon as Ryan left, Sandy spoke seriously. "So Son, I've been busy working at the new job. First time I've been home at a decent hour in a while…"

"No, Father," Seth said emphasizing father sarcastically, "We don't have to do this. I'm fine. Captain Oat's is fine. Off his feed a while, but he's in the pink again."

"Okay, okay. No big talk, but I gotta say I think you're handling this move really well. I'm proud of you."

Seth humored him, nodding agreeably.

"So what have you been doing lately?"

"Yvelise did her first Ollie today." When his dad looked confused he said, "She's the little kid across the street. Raul, the guy who borrowed our tools, won't let me put Baby on a board, but that kid is so ready. I think she's sweet on me."

"That's great. You're getting back into skateboarding. And you've always been good at teaching kids things; you're really patient. We should hit the surf together soon, and I can be the teacher."

"Ah, yeah Dad," Seth said meaning exactly the opposite.

Sandy smiled at the expected rejection. The two sat in companionable silence. They watched Pyro burn down, and Captain Oats float aimlessly.

"Dad, did you give Ryan a pep talk, too?"

Sandy frowned. "I don't really plan these session, Seth. Should I make a point to talk to him?"

"You need someone to get a tree tomorrow, I'm your man."

"Okay. Is there something going on with Ryan that I should know about?" Sandy said not dissuaded from his question.

"No, just want you to know I'm not going to be useless anymore. I'm going to apply for a job during Chrismukkah break, and I'm gonna be in charge of, oh," Seth said rolling his head searching for something, "making grilled lunches for example."

"Lunches? What's this about?"

"Nothing. I'm just trying to help out." Seth picked up Captain Oats and began to clean his hooves of gum.

"That's great," Sandy said carefully, leaning forward in his chair to search Seth's face.

"I just want to let you know that I'm not hopeless; I can help out here in the new place, too." Seth struggled with his words.

"Too? As in, in addition to Ryan? Because that's just his way of coping with stress, everyone deals differently. I'll talk to him and make sure he's not over doing it."

Seth pressed his lips together tightly and bobbed his head to acknowledge he heard his dad.

"Talk to me, Seth. Because I don't ever want you to go back to you pretending you're happy, and your mom and I pretending to believe that you're happy. Ryan may have shown us all the way out of that, but it's all us now, Seth."

"Okay, but let me first say I know I'm being really lame when I say this … it's just that everyone is working their ass off. You work at a job you hate to support us, Mom is Hercules making this house livable." Seth glanced at the patio door to see if anyone was coming out and mumbled, "And Ryan does everything perfectly- he's saving our dinner right now. I'm sorry I'm so worthless." Seth snorted, "Unless you include comic relief."

Sandy face drained, and he shook his head in disbelief. "Seth, you are so far off. From the day you were born I have thanked God for you." Seth only looked more miserable. "We've been over-protective again. Okay, I hear you. We didn't want to ask too much, it's a big change from Newport. We've underestimated you, and I'm sorry."

"But that's the point, even if you wanted to ask me to chip in what could I do? You turned to Ryan to sell the car."

"Seth," Sandy protested, "I can't even change the oil. We all offer something different. Don't knock comic relief." Sandy smiled cajolingly. "I get it. Ryan: handy around the house. You: not so much. But that doesn't mean we value you any less. And you know what? It's natural to be jealous of your brother. You're out of practice because Ryan came to us so late, but I absolutely hated your uncle at times; he seemed to be able to do it all. And I'll bet Ryan is jealous of you sometimes, too." Seth lowered his head. "Seth? Thinking these things is normal. Behind your façade of cool egotism is a heart of gold. You're a Cohen, it can't be helped."

Seth snorted again. He sighed, and finally looked up, nodding with resignation. "I will get a job. And this discussion never happened."

"What discussion?" Sandy feigned asking. He hesitated before continuing more seriously, "Promise me you'll come to talk whenever you want."

"Dad," Seth pleaded to be released from the awkward discussion.

Ryan returned a moment later loaded down with sodas, silverware, and napkins. Sensing he was interrupting something important, Ryan stopped abruptly at the table. "Should I …?" he asked.

Sandy said cheerfully, "So how's dinner coming along? Need help? Seth is all about the help tonight."

Seth tried to look casual but ended up looking sad. Ryan gave him an assessing glance, but only said, "Dinners up in ten. The phone rang and Kirsten answered it, so I think I saved the potatoes." He whispered conspiratorially, "I'm not so sure about the green soy salad."

"Soylent Green is people!" Sandy shouted throwing his head back cackling.

Ryan stared at him quizzically. Seth threw his head back and cackled, too, but stopped suddenly and said in a deadpan voice, "I don't get it."

"Let your educations begin, my sons. All will be revealed when we rent the Charlton Heston classic this Christmas: Soylent Green."

He was still laughing when Kirsten came back outside. She sat down slowly. With both hands trembling, she guided her wine glass onto the table. Her face was ghost white.

"Honey?" Sandy stood and went to kneel by her immediately.

"Reporter ... Riviera Magazine… They want a comment on my impending indictment."